A funny thing happened on the way to retirement

Occasionally a column I've written has generated an unusual number of responses; such was the case after last's week column on retirement.

The main questions have been: "So has your husband driven you crazy?" Or, "Are you ready to leave the house screaming to get a job?"

Absolutely not. Bob is not one to hover; he respects my space. I never once went to his office to supervise him so he has always afforded me the same respect when I am in the kitchen or at the computer where I "work."

The other thing, though, is that Bob hasn't had much time to enjoy retirement yet. You see, a funny thing happened on the way to retirement...

Sue Davis Journal-Advocate columnist

Last March I took Bob, who was in severe pain, to the emergency room. He was sure he was having a heart attack; I was sure it was his gall bladder. Good thing we're not doctors — we were both wrong.

After a scan was done of Bob's lungs to rule out a blood clot, the ER doctor asked Bob, "Did you know you've got a large cyst on your liver? Nothing to worry about, though. It's a 'simple cyst' and has probably been there since birth. It's just filled with fluid. Shouldn't cause you problems. They're rarely cancerous."

That ER visit began an odyssey of medical personnel, tests, scans, procedures, probes, scopes and bloodwork that produced more questions than answers. Bob learned that every internal organ from his neck down was in good working order. Comforting but still no explanation for the intermittent chest and shoulder pain he was experiencing.

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In September, Bob made another trip to the ER which included an overnight stay at our local hospital for extreme chest and shoulder discomfort. More tests proved he was healthy but had unusual musculoskeletal pain. Frustration was mounting.

A few weeks later, we visited a gastroenterologist on the Front Range. He ordered additional detailed MRI's of Bob's liver; we never saw nor heard from him again.

10 days later, I received a call from University Hospital saying that the gastroenterologist had referred my husband to a hepatologist (liver specialist). Apparently, the Front Range doctor felt that my hubby's "simple cyst" was so large that it was pressing on other internal organs thus causing heart attack symptoms so referred him to yet another specialist.

After Bob and I saw her, all the hepatology docs and surgeons at University Hospital had a look-see at Bob's scans, tests and reports then all came to the same conclusion — the cyst needed to come out.

Because part of the liver would be removed in the process, Bob was referred to a transplant surgeon who did not impress me — he resembled an unmade bed! A few words out of his mouth changed my tune instantly, though. He was a brilliant, caring, personable, professional, amusing gentleman who was all business where Bob's liver was concerned. We discussed a date for the surgery; it could wait until after Bob's retirement.

So Bob retired Jan. 29 and underwent major surgery on Feb. 3. We sure know how to have a good time, don't we?

Surgery went longer than scheduled because the "simple" cyst was much larger, and complicated, than even the surgeon had expected. Almost a liter of "really nasty rusty-chocolate colored gunk" (is that a medical term?) was removed from the cyst which had compressed, spread and adhered to the back of Bob's diaphragm and onto his intestines. What was removed was the size of a deflated volleyball and totally cancer-free.

Recovery has been uncomfortable, long, tedious and a bit boring for the patient and his able-bodied caregiver.

But, Bob is learning about retirement. He retires to bed, he retires on the couch, in chairs and, of course, in his recliner.

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